No Words Needed
by lexkixass
Summary: Some days, John just wonders why he even bothers to try and understand Sherlock.


_A/N: First attempt at writing Sherlock._

* * *

"Here, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said as she opened the door to the flat, "a new client, I think. I'm sorry, dear, but I didn't quite get your name."

"Neji Hyuuga," the man answered quietly as John looked up from his laptop. "I wish to speak with a Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He came highly recommended."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Mrs. Hudson," John said, getting up. He glanced to his colleague, who was facing the fire, hands pressed together. "Welcome, Mr. Hyuuga, I'm John Watson." He offered his hand, which the Japanese man shook. "Sherlock is right over here. Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you." Mr. Hyuuga left his overcoat on as he crossed to the chair opposite Sherlock. "Mr. Holmes."

"Mr. Hyuuga," Sherlock replied with uncommon politeness.

John settled himself back at his desk, gathering up his notepad and pen. "Now, what is it we can help you with?"

Sherlock held up an abruptly silencing hand, his attention on their client. John blinked as the two simply... stared at each other. Sherlock in his everyday shirt and jacket, Mr. Hyuuga in a full-on business suit beneath coat and scarf.

The clock on the mantle ticked away the seconds slowly.

Just as abruptly, the two men smiled in a way that was eerily alike.

Mr. Hyuuga began to rise from his seat, prompting Sherlock to do the same. "Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I'm pleased to know your reputation isn't empty air."

"No, no, no thanks needed. A pleasure, Mr. Hyuuga," Sherlock replied.

"Indeed." Mr. Hyuuga bowed slightly, then reached into his coat. He handed Sherlock a folded piece of paper. "For your help, Mr. Holmes. Good day to you, Dr. Watson. I will see myself out."

John could only gape as Mr. Hyuuga glided out. "What- Sherlock, what?" he demanded, flabbergasted. "What in the world just happened?"

Sherlock slipped his hands into his pockets. "He just wanted a second opinion. I gave it to him."

"You two didn't say a word!"

"We didn't need to."

John looked away, slapping the pad and pencil down. "All right, then," he said, annoyed, and returned his gaze to Sherlock. "What did I miss?"

"A Japanese man, not fresh off the plane but rather having spent the last night in a hotel, an upscale one by the cut of his suit and the whiff of high-end cleaner, where he had had time to press his clothing before coming here. His choice of somber colors means he is accustomed to being unnoticed when it suits him, blending in well with crowds and only calling attention when it is necessary. Going by his tone, inflections, accent, and grooming he comes from and old family and powerful family, but his light-colored eyes betray a mix of foreign blood to him somewhere, possibly a grandparent, yet _despite_ that he commands, actually demands respect and he _gets_ it even putting into account the underlying disdain of the Japanese for foreigners and especially those who aren't pure Japanese. The calluses on his fingers and hands: he works with numbers, computers and accounting, and he is also a versatile martial artist of a black belt but what degree, that's a little more difficult to ascertain. You'll recall we didn't hear a single tread of his beyond the squeaky stair. He is exceptional at picking up details, primarily by sight but engages the other senses as well, nor is he any slouch at putting the details together into a cohesive picture and/or knowing where to go or to whom to go in order to get the information he needs to complete the picture.

"He is irritated by the fact that he's only recently become aware of someone siphoning funds from the family business - something aboveboard, it should be said - to where they shouldn't be going, and this siphoning has been happening for some time which offends his pride as he considers himself to be at the top of his game. He suspects but wants to be absolutely certain of the guilty party, as the prime suspect is a fellow employee also from an old, powerful family, possibly one he's related to but distant enough from that there is no real sense of camaraderie or togetherness."

"...you got all that, just from seeing him, and barely hearing him speak."

"The eyes, John, the eyes speak volumes if you know how to listen."

John shook his head. "So tell me, what was your second opinion."

"He's looking at the right person."


End file.
